Out of Time
by ASongtobesung
Summary: When Eleanor Parkwell sneaks out of her house to visit the love of her life, strange occurences happen and she is vaulted from her home in 1900 Chicago to another place in time.
1. Chapter 1

Book 1: Elle

I roam and roam. The halls are dank and dusty. Grey wallpaper is peeling in various places. Wooden floorboards creaking with every hesitant step I take. My white slippers dancing a dangerous Pas de Deux with the sound barrier. Creak!I jump, almost screaming and giving myself away, but I keep it in. Out of the farthest doorway on the left a figure emerges. I press myself up against the wall thankfully; the doorframes in this hallway protrude enough to keep me hidden. The figure enters the water closet. I quickly run to the cloaking room. My white batiste dress sways behind me. I quietly close the door and grab my black cloak. Creak! I jump, but this time there is nowhere to hide. The figure enters the room.

"A little late for a stroll don't you think Elle?" He asks. His thumb and index finger gently stroking his invisible goatee.

"A little late for a 'visit' to the water closet, huh Theo?" I ask imitating his ridiculous gesture.

"It is never too late to go to the water closet. So where are you going Elle?"

"Nowhere that concerns you. Theodore Parkwell, now go back to bed before Katherine and William wake up."

"Only if you tell where you're going Elle! You may be my older sister, but I have a right to know where you're going at such a ridiculous hour."

"Theodore you are a child, I am not. So please don't bother me when I am doing my own business. Goodnight Theo." I kiss him on the top of his head before I head out of the door quickly.

I walk the four miles to Grand Central Station. Even though it wasn't a cemetery anymore Lincoln Park still had that eerie feel to it as I walked past it. The fog was low to the ground and I swear I could hear the ghosts yelling to be freed. I knew nothing good happened around Lincoln Park at night but I needed to get there and through the park was the fastest way tonight. Swish! I heard something behind a bush, but I just kept on walking. Nothing was going to stop me tonight, nothing. I passed the Lincoln monument, and my vision started to blur. I sat down on the granite steps for a second to let my vision return too normal, before it returned to normal red streaked my vision, and then it disappeared. Once it did I headed towards the station.

_Once I arrived at Grand Central, the ten-year-old station shone like a beacon in the dark. The high chapel ceilings with their magnificent chandeliers brought back memories that I hadn't thought of for about three years. That was the last saw him and tonight I would see him again. I walked the halls of the station for what felt like hours, it was actually thirty minutes. I saw him first through his reflection on the marble flooring. _

_He was holding his briefcase. His suit was impeccable, as always. Green eyes burning brightly from underneath his tousled brown hair. I dared not look up at him, for every time I did I fell completely and utterly in love with him. I watched his reflection come closer and closer. My entire body was tingling with excitement. I kept my eyes gazing downward until I could see his shoes next to mine. His right hand reached out to grab mine. As soon we touched my eyes shot to his. I couldn't help but smile. Every time I was around him all my protective walls fell._

_Life wasn't complete without him and yet for the past three years that is what my life had been. I know it wasn't his fault when he left. His father, Howard Marvell, one of the most powerful men of the past thirty years, had suddenly died of a heart attack. Once his father died he was called back to New York to take over his father's numerous steel factories. He couldn't have anticipated that he wouldn't return to me in Chicago for at least three years. _

_His hand, still holding mine, spun me around and then stopped me when we were face-to-face. I looked into his eyes and my world started spinning. He had grown over the past three years. Something about him was different than when he left me. I got apprehensive._

"_Ellie, you look beautiful. I almost didn't recognize you." He smiled down on me while running his fingers through my auburn hair. I looked up at his eyes; tears were starting to well. Hesitantly I stepped back. Shock filled his eyes. "Ellie-" I didn't let him finish._

"_Why did you come back all of the sudden David? I can tell you're married by that ring mark on your finger, so who is she?" I started to leave, not actually wanting to know who she was, or how she was better than me, prettier than me. I should've known that it was too good to be true. No lofty upper-class businessman's son could fall in love with a humble orphaned girl from Missouri, who was living with her aunt and uncle. A girl, a nineteen-year-old girl, who had to take care of her nine-year-old brother since she was fourteen and he was four. Life had not been kind to me__. __I thought that just for once I could have something good and pure. Something unclouded by the rest of the greed and hate that filled the earth. What a fool I was to think that._

"_Ellie, I-I-I-I" He was stumbling. He never stumbled; he always had this way with words, which made me enraptured with him. I stopped and waited to hear what he had to say. "Ellie, it wasn't by choice you have to realize that. I still love you with all my heart. If I could change the past I would. My aunt Georgiana made me marry her friends' daughter Anastasia __Feodorovna Elstina__. __I don't love her Ellie-" I couldn't let him finish. Tears were streaming my face. I raised my hand to my eyes to wipe the tears._

_ "Go back to your Russian wife and don't ever come back. Goodbye Mr. Marvell, have a safe trip back to New York." I was being extremely proper. No man who said he loved me and then went and got married deserved my respect._

_ "I love you more than I love my life, please Ellie, stay." He said I could hear his shoes hitting the marble floor. He was running after me._

_ "Stay away from me Mr. Marvell, I no longer return your love, please leave me alone." I yelled over my shoulder while running away. I heard his footsteps coming closer and closer. I kept running, but he was catching up. I cursed the track team for making him faster. He reached me and jumped at my heels making me trip and fall, hitting my head on the marble flooring._

My vision blurred for a second. The air started to turn black. A voice rang out from seemingly nowhere. "Miss, are you okay?"

"Miss, you have to wake up. Miss? Miss? Mi…" Another voice rang out. Then as soon as they had come, they disappeared.

"_Elle, are you okay?" David asked worriedly. I slowly got up, and faced him. My head spinning and my heart breaking_

"_No I am not ok Mr. Marvell. I have just one issue, and it is this: you will address me as Miss Parkwell, Mr. Marvell, and maybe one day I will let you call me Eleanor, but never again will you call me Elle, Ellie, or Ella Bella. Understood Mr. Marvell?" I say, ashamed of the tone I'm using with him, he isn't Theo and yet I am treating him as if he were Theo._

"_Understood Miss Parkwell." He solemnly said. His head hung down and his chin barely touched his suit._

"_Now goodnight Mr. Marvell. It is too late for a lady to be out and about."_

"_Goodnight Miss Parkwell. Stay safe on the walk home." I cursed in my head. He _had_ given up on me. The old David, if we had ever fought like this, would've been enough of a Gentleman to offer to walk me home, even if I was mad at him._

"_Have a safe trip back to New York." 'And your wife' I wanted to add. I left the station; it no longer seemed like a beacon of hope, now it just seemed like a train station. For the first time I saw it in its real form. The red brick was deteriorating, the marble floors were all scuffed up and dirty. The chandeliers were full of dust and some of the benches were already breaking. How could this be? The station was only ten years old. Not enough time for all this damage to occur. Surely people took care of the station. It was a pride and joy of the city of Chicago, how could they not take care of it? I stepped outside to meet a warm rush of air and a downpour of rain. Great, I thought, now I either have to walk home and face an almost certain death or face David until this storm ended. _

"_Ah what the heck, I'd rather be alive and pissed than dead and happy." I head back to David, but when I arrived to place where I saw him last he was gone. So I searched the station for him. I finally find him when I head to the tracks. He was _off _a train from New York, how strange._

"_Ellie, is that you? I thought we were to meet in the waiting area." He ran at me and pulled me close. "I love you and Vivian with all my heart, I'm so glad I'm back. That business meeting with my father was a drag. I missed you two so much over these past two weeks." Two weeks? His father? Vivian? What was going on? My head started to spin again, I put my left hand his shoulder to brace myself. His suit felt so nice under my hand. He looked to my hand, which felt a little heavier than normal. "So you are wearing it. I thought you were against it. It looks beautiful on your hand. As if it were made especially for you." I looked down and my hand and saw it. A big, white, diamond with a platinum setting, I am wearing a wedding ring. A very expensive one at that. I want to scream, what is going on here? I'm married, your father is still alive and you love another woman named Vivian. _

"_Mr. Marvell, do you not re-…" David who is acting very strangely, holding me close and running his hands through my hair rudely interrupts me._

"_Yes, Mrs. Marvell I do remember our last conversation, what a terrible one it was. You and Vivian were distraught that I was leaving, but I just said that I would return safely and bring gifts for the two most important women in my life." It was like he read my mind. How did he do that? _

"_I have a very different version of our last conversation Mr. Marvell." I say trying to keep my distance from him. Something was not right here and I intend to find out what. Was this Anastasia's way of getting back at me for loving her husband?_

"_Ellie, why do you keep calling me by my proper name? We're married, we have been for the past three years." Three years ago, that's when his father died, that's when he left for New York. After he moved his Aunt managed to persuade him to marry Anastasia and gave me up. _

"Damn bums," I hear a man mutter. Where are these voices coming from?

_ I turn to ask David if he can hear the voices, but he is gone. _

_ "David?" I ask. "David where are you?" I place my left hand on my cheek. A gesture I learned from my mother whenever my father would get in trouble. Then suddenly realization hits me, the ring is gone._

_I can feel rain hitting my face, cold and heavy. My vision is black, only black. I feel as if I have just closed my eyes to go to sleep. I can barely move so I curl up. _


	2. Chapter 2

Book 2: David

She was late, this was our big date, and we had been planning for months. The first time we had seen each other in three years and she was late. I paced the station for a few hours before I decided to walk the four miles to her house. I knew her Aunt and Uncle wouldn't be happy that I was ringing their doorbell at this time at night. I took Elle's advice and avoided Lincoln Park at this time of night. Well, I actually did not. I felt drawn to the park, like I was meant to be there. I walked up to the statue of our country's greatest president, Abraham Lincoln.

"Damn bums," I muttered. A young woman was lying on the granite steps all curled up. Her white dress was covered in blood, the gentleman in me wanted to stop and help her, but it was late and the more time I spent out here meant less time I spent with Elle. The rain started to fall, light at first and then pouring. "Damn" I was a mile away, roughly, from Elle's house. The monument gave no shelter, but there was nowhere else to hide. I looked down at the bum; she still wasn't waking up even though the rain was heavy and chilly. I contemplated going over to see if she was dead, but she confirmed her status by rolling onto her side and curling into the fetal position. From here I can see that she has a gash on the side of her head, it cuts through the eyebrow and the area below her eye, but it looks like the actual eye is safe and intact.

I sighed in relief this girl was alive. She wouldn't be another body to bury. This park still retained its cemetery like feel. Even though I had not grown up here in Chicago I knew all about the city's history, from Elle. Elle had not grown up here either, but she acted like she knew the city as her own house. I guess it was from all the books she read. I still remember her sitting in the tearoom, oh what a sight she was. Clad in all white, her auburn curls falling well past her shoulders. The window behind her looking in on the park was backlighting her. Her figure appeared to have a halo. Rightly so too, she was an angel sent from heaven to teach me the ways of being a good man. Cheesy right? Yet so true. See before I met Elle I was selfish, rude, and just downright nasty. The day I met her I was extremely rude to everyone I met.

It was April 15, 1895 my father was sending me to University of Chicago, a small school that had only opened three years before. Now I wasn't of the college attending age, I was actually fifteen-years-old, but my father told me I had to go if I wanted to stay a part of the family. So, grudgingly, I got on a train from New York to Chicago. Now at the same time Elle and Theo had gotten on a train from St. Louis to Chicago. Looking back at myself, I am happy that I was a jerk at that time, or else I never would've met Elle.

You see, Elle and Theo were walking through the waiting area when I was stepping off the train and running through people, yes I was running, and I was also pushing them aside. Very rude of me now that I look back on it, but anyways. I was running to the public restrooms, Elle calls them water closets but where I grew up we called them restrooms. So anyways, Elle and Theo were walking towards the Harrison St. exit. I ran down the marble stairs, slipped and fell, and then it happened. Elle, being the angel she was offered me her hand. Unfortunately I did not take it. I just got up. Luckily the fates had a plan. Apparently when I fell my wallet toppled out of my back pocket, and Elle picked it. This is how I remember our first meeting.

_"Sir, you dropped something." She yelled while running after me. I did hear her calling after me, but I decided not to listen to her. I was sure she was going to yell at me instead of actually giving me anything. So I just kept walking away. "Sir, please! You dropped your wallet." I slowed down just a bit. I knew I shouldn't have, but I did anyway. It was almost an unconscious reaction. I could hear her shoes hitting the floor behind me. For some reason the entire station got quiet, maybe I was imagining it or maybe I wasn't, who knows. I turned around to face her._

_"Thank you for retrieving my wallet." I said quickly grabbing it from her outstretched hand. _

_"It's not a problem Sir." She said her voice as clear as a bell. Her gray eyes were tinted with a hint of cobalt blue. Most people wouldn't know one shade of blue from another, but since my mother had been training me to become an artist before she died, I knew more about art than most. Looking back on it, I think that might've been a reason why she loved me, a minor reason at that, but nonetheless still a reason. Something changed in me within the next few seconds. "Pardon my improper question, but what is your name?" She asked, her eyes pointed at the floor and her hands clasped together, resting at her stomach. Her eyes slowly found their way to the floor. Tracing the lines on the ground, she intently stared, not wanting to look up at me again. I could only guess what was going through her mind. She must have known what she asked was the height of impropriety. Alas a gentleman should not ignore the question of a beautiful woman._

_Hesitantly she held out her hand, as she saw my mouth forming the words to my name. "David- my name is David Marvell." I said, my voice wobbling. I took her hand. She shocked me. I ignored the shock and kissed her hand. "And what might your name be, Miss?" I asked, looking her right in her beautiful eyes._

_"Elle- I mean Eleanor, Eleanor Christine Parkwell." She said correcting herself. Underneath her sweet smelling breath, she whispered. "God, how I despise that name." _

_"Well thank you, Mrs. Marvell, for retrieving my wallet." I thanked her and started to walk away. _

_"You're welcome Mr. Marvell, but my last name is Parkwell not Marvell." She laughed, probably at my mix-up. Mother always did call me impulsive. Although she meant it in a way of saying that when I don't think my heart takes over._

_"Oh," I say, blood rushing to my cheeks._

_"You look—oh, never mind." She started say and then stopped. She laughed though._

_"I look funny don't I? My mother would always laugh when I blushed. So I get it if you think I look funny." I say. I can feel more blood coursing through the veins leading to my cheeks._

_ "You don't look funny, but I can tell why your mother would laugh." She said, this time she was the one who was blushing. She absent-mindedly fixed a stray auburn curl that hung down in front of her eyes._

_ "Than what is it?" I ask wanting to why she was blushing._

_ Not knowing that I was well rounded in art she started babbling. "Well, for some reason the fire brick of your cheeks brings out the fern of your eyes and accentuates the coffee of your hair." Two could play at this game._

_ "Well, when you blush the raspberry makes your slate eyes almost Persian. Unfortunately the raspberry of your cheeks, and the auburn of your hair do not mix well." I said slyly knowing that she thought she could compliment me, and get away with it._

_ "You don't seem like a man who would know about art." She said shocked._

_ "May I see you again Ms. Parkwell?" I asked, carefully slipping it in there._

_ "Yes you may Mr. Marvell."_

_ "Shall we meet at the statue of Lincoln at say, 1:30 pm tomorrow?" I recommended that place because at that time it was the only place besides the station I knew in Chicago._

_ "I look forward to it Mr. Marvell. Good day. Say Mr. Marvell, who taught you about art?" She asked._

_"My mother taught me Ms. Parkwell." As soon as I said that she and Theo headed off. I met her the next day and the rest is another story for another time. _

I wish Elle could have met my mother. They would have been friends, kindred spirits. My father, however met Elle once, I think he hated her. I guess she reminded him too much of my mother. My father said that he could never love again, what a lie. Not more than three years after my mother's death he remarried. He was fifty-nine and she was twenty-seven. Their marriage lasted the final five years of his life. Thankfully he left the business to me, and not to that wench. She knew nothing about the steel business. Her name was Anastasia Feodorovna Elstina. She was one of those people who went by their full name. Her straight jet-black hair fell past her hips. Brown eyes so dull that they look like they were God's after thought. Her figure was another thing. While my mother was of normal height, stature and she was not too thin. The only thing that made my mother unique was her eyes, deep purple, rare, old soul eyes, my father called them. Anastasia was the polar opposite; she was too tall and too skinny. She always wore these terrible black shoes that added two inches to her height. A fad that will never catch on, I think.

My Elle, how I had missed her. In our last correspondence she had sounded very different, almost as if something were wrong. I just hope that it wasn't me she wasn't worrying over. Although it is very plausible that she is not in love with me anymore, it has been three years. Just because her letters have stated time and time again that she loves me, to what extent should I believe her? Could I have missed my chance?

I feel the bulge in my coat pocket. I sigh, that ring had been there for, three years. Everyday a reminder of what I never did. That day before I left her I was going to propose to her, but her aunt and uncle took Theo and Elle on a trip back home to St. Louis. I know it isn't smart, but I pull out the ring. So beautiful.

_"I'll take this one sir, in a size five please." I say pointing to the beautiful ring. Its diamonds all apparently got perfect scores in the three c's test. The design was experimental. Four diamonds are anchored to the band, creating a circle. Extending to the left of each diamond was a string of three more diamonds. Creating a flowerlike design. Complex, yet stunningly beautiful. It reminded me of Elle, the perfect ring for the perfect woman._

_"Wonderful choice sir. You must love her very much." The man said smiling at me. _

_"There are no words to explain how much I love Elle." I say, my mind instantly jumping from memory to memory of Elle. The one on the beach, in the carriage, out in the countryside. We had had so many great memories these past two years. I am surprised marriage did not cross my mind earlier._

_"Well, she is a very lucky woman Mr. ... I realize I did not catch your name sir."_

_"Marvell, my name is David Marvell. Yes Howard Marvell is my father, but let's not bring that up." His face wore a look of shock as I said my last name._

_"Mr. Marvell, my apologies, I did not realize I was servicing such an important young man."_

_"That's usually why I do not mention my last name if I can." I say embarrassed. I do not like the star treatment. It bothers me, I just wish to live a normal life and marry Elle, if she'll have me, settle down and be an anonymous figure in my father's company. _

The church bells from St. Chrysostom's church strikes six in the morning. The sun should be rising soon; I should head to Elle's head house now.

"Mmmmmm" I hear a voice say. I'm woken from my dream world. I search for the source of the sound. I look down to the girl, but she is gone. Although, a shoe is lying on the step. It is covered in blood, well actually soaked in blood. In the distance I can still hear the bells ringing.


	3. Chapter 3

Book 3: Gregory

"Hey, how are you? Are we still on for dinner tonight?" I ask the person on the other end of the phone.

"You might want to sit down Gregory, I need to tell you something and I don't want you to fall and hit your head." I follow the directions and sit down in the big armoire chair in my study.

"What do you need to say?" I ask worriedness creeping into my voice.

"We're finished Gregory." I hear, as my entire world starts to collapse around me. I get out my armoire chair. Picking up my key, I aimlessly wander out the door of my house.  
"We can't be finished, I love you, and I have given you everything I have." I say pleading my case.

"Get it through your head Gregory, we're finished." I hear from the other end of the phone. I stand outside my house, not moving, just standing and listening.

"We've been together seven years and now suddenly you decide to end it. Why?" I ask. Trying to subdue the tears welling in my eyes.

"I'm ending the relationship Gregory, get over it!" screams well up into my throat, but I hold them back.

"Did you find another man? A man who could better care for you? I'm a Doctor, Eli. I can take care of you for forever!" My keys fall to the ground and I slowly bend to pick them up. I turn to look at my old Victorian house. By God, it was a beautiful house. Eli never appreciated the beauty of the house. He always wanted to tear it down and build a modern house, but this house was the only thing that I would not let him control. The old house was the culmination of my hard work in medical school, plus my very fist paycheck as a neurologist. I remember the first time I laid my eyes on this marvelous house, oh baby, love at first sight.

_"Mr. Jones, this house next house has been abandoned for approximately 70 years, are you sure you want to see this house?" The real-estate agent asked me as we pulled up to the house in her car._

_"Yes, I am sure I want to see this house. Any house built in the 1870's interests me. I have always had a passion for the past. So how did this house become abandoned?"_

_"Well, we don't actually know why, but there is an 'urban legend' if you'd like to hear that." She said as she was parking the car._

_"Okay, I would like to hear that legend."_

_"Alright then. The legend starts about 44 years before the house was abandoned. In the year 1894, a couple died in Saint Louis. They had two children; unfortunately we do not know the couple's name, or their children's names. We do know however that the couple had a son and daughter. The daughter was approximately 15 when her parents died. Her brother was about four or five."  
"How sad, but how does this relate?"_

_"I'm getting there. The girl and her brother headed to Chicago to live with their Aunt Katherine and her husband William. Around June 3__rd__, 1900 the girl suddenly disappeared, she was never found. About a week or two later on June 11__th__, 1900 the little boy, who was only ten or eleven, died of either Typhoid or Scarlet fever. Katherine was devastated; in less than ten years she had lost her sister and brother-in-law, and her niece and nephew. Katherine lived until 1938; she outlived her husband by five years. People apparently think that the house should be left alone because one day they believe the girl will come home." She said ending with a tear rolling down her rosy red cheek. _

_"How interesting. Is everything in the house the way it was in 1938?" I ask trying to keep my interest in the house a secret. _

_"I guess people believe it. Every time someone shows interest in the house, they suddenly change their mind after I tell them the story. The house has been well kept by an anonymous figure. So nothing has been stolen or removed. Everything, even down to the clothing in the girl's bedroom has not been touched since the day she disappeared." My lord, this place could be an archeological treasure trove. Family pictures, one of a girl standing in front of the house, her hair billowing down to her waist and her white dress blowing in the wind. I also found heirloom jewelries, antique furniture. _

_"How much for the house?" I ask while looking at the exterior. White wooden porch. Red brick walls. Chimney sticking up off the top of the house. My god, this house is extraordinary. _

_"I've never had an asking price, because I've never had a willing buyer. I guess $500,000." She said even though it was relatively cheap for a house of this size, I would've paid $3,000,000 just to walk into the front door of this house. _

_"I'll take the house." I said as I started writing a check out to the real estate company._

What a great investment this house was. All the priceless photos. Countless pieces of designer jewelry. Then of course there were the hidden items that someone wanted to keep safe. The most expensive item I found was hidden under the cherry blossom tree in the front yard. It was a golden pocket watch that had the letters A.P. 1894 carved into it. It had to be brand new. It seemed like it was never used. For about a month I contemplated keeping it in the house, but I finally decided that it was hidden for a reason and therefore, it should stay hidden.  
"Gregory!" I hear Eli yell through the phone.

"Yes, Eli?" I answer slightly pissed off at him for interrupting my day dreaming state.

"Were you thinking about the time you bought the house again? I thought I told you it was unhealthy to dwell on moments of your own past. Especially stupid moments.

"Buying the house was not a stupid decision, it was the smartest decision I've ever made. Up until now at least." I say before hanging up the phone on him. I decide to walk out into the park to enjoy myself, and to calm down a bit.

I see kites flying high with the sound of children's laughter accompanying them. I start to walk through the observatory in the zoo. How beautiful the flowers are. May in Chicago is extremely beautiful, if you know where to look. I exit the observatory feeling refreshed and calm. I check my watch, it's about 2:45, and maybe if I hurry I can see the kids getting out of school to enjoy a day in the park. I quickly, but not too quickly, head to the part of the park closets to North Avenue. I arrive just in time. Some of the children are heading home in their cars with their parents. I pity them for not being able to enjoy the time with their friends. Other kids are sitting on the silver benches outside of the school waiting to head into the park for soccer or baseball practice. The girls getting ready for soccer are huddled in a circle, most likely their saying.

"Did you hear? Summer snuck into American history class, and like, Mr. Frill didn't even notice her for, like, thirty minutes." Or maybe this:

"Jack and Lottie are making out almost every day during break, it's starting to get a bit old." One girl with about forty sets of five tally marks, written in pen on her right arm eyes me. Her coach tells them they can cross the street so she is the first to cross. She runs right up to me.

"Hello Doctor Jones!" She peppily says. "Or should I say Uncle Gregory since none of your patients are around." She walks forward to close the gap between us and throws her arms around my neck.

"Hello Cece, how are you?" I ask her while tickling her. Her coach starts to eye me as he walks forward.

"Call me Cecilia while my friends are around. Please Uncle, you'll embarrass me to death." As soon as Cecilia utters the word Uncle her coach backs off and tells the rest of the girls to keep going.

"Fine, hello Cecilia, gosh I feel like I'm talking to my sister, your aunt Karmine. She never let me call her Kari, it was always Karmine." I say exasperated.

"Okay, fine, you can call me that dreaded name."

"Thank you Cece. So, you're going out to soccer practice?"

"Yup, and it looks like I have to go. Bye Uncle Gregory!" She yells as she walks back to her friends.

Barely, I can hear one of her friends say. "I didn't know your Doctor Uncle was that hot Cecilia!" I laugh, God how I've missed Cece. Ever since my sister Emilia married her second husband Jim Webb, she hasn't been to Christmas, Thanksgiving, or Easter dinner. He always says that they should spend more time with his side of the family. She doesn't really like him for that. We all warned her that he was no good, but did Emilia listen? No. She just did what Emilia wanted even though she should've considered Cece and her other daughter Anna. I walk up to the front of the school. I open the huge doors, leading to the lobby of the school. I walk over to the receptionist.

"Hello, I was wondering if Anna Carri is still in the building." I ask her, immediately she starts checking her computer.

"It looks like she checked out fifteen minutes ago. I'm sorry." She says with some sympathy in her voice.

"Thank you very much." I say in return.

"Wait, Uncle Gregory?" I hear a voice behind me say. I quickly turn around to see Anna standing there.

"Anna, hi. This nice lady just told me you had already left." I say while getting a hug from her. Her arms latch around my mid-section.

"I did, I went to the store next door. See, I got candy since Jim doesn't allow junk food at home, I eat it here." She says while holding up a white plastic bag with gummy worms and chocolate chip cookies.

"I'm sorry I missed your tenth birthday last week." I say while walking outside with her.

"It's okay Uncle Gregory. I know you wanted to be there. That's all that matters is that you wanted to come."

"Thank you for saying that Anna, but you're only turn ten once. So to make up for that can I take you to get ice cream?" As soon as the words ice cream leave my mouth her tiny little body, along with her pigtail braids, start jumping up and down.

"You'd do that uncle Gregory? Oh thank you, thank you!"

"As long as you promise not to tell Cece or your mother. Especially don't tell Jim, then I'll never be able to see you two again.

"Jim will be going away for forever soon. I can't wait. Momma says then we will be able to see you again."

"When did your mother tell you this?" I ask her while picking her up and putting her on a rock across the street from the school. Before she can answer we hear strange noises. A squeal of brakes. The sound of a car hitting a person. "Stay here." I say. I run into the street to save the girl who has been hit. By God.


	4. Chapter 4

Book 4: Elle

"Miss, are you alright?" A man says, shaking my shoulders. I groggily moan, not feeling well enough to open my eyes. "Ok, let's get you out of the street." He picks me up as though I am a child and he is my father. Once he puts me down, I start to fall again. His strong arms catch me. Even though my eyes are adjusting to the light, I can see he is tall, long limbed and handsome. Behind him a little girl about Theo's age peers around at me. Her brown hair is pulled into two braids running down all the way to her waist.

"Go run along back to your friends. I'll come back to visit when I can." He says to her. She obliges and crosses the street. Nimbly jumping over the large puddle of water that blocks her way to the other side of the street.

"I seem to be a bit ossified although I haven't had any alcohol.

"Ossified, I don't understand you." He looks down at me puzzled.

"Ossified, you know ossified."

"No I don't know ossified."

"How can you not know ossified? I say wondering where he has been living for the past decade. Everyone knows what ossified, even my parents knew and they died seven years ago.

"I just don't know ossified."

"Ossified is when you consume too much alcohol."

"Oh, you mean drunk, that's what you mean. Ossified means to turn bone into tissue so I was confused when you mentioned ossified and alcohol."

"What is the word duhrunck," I try saying the word the best I can, but it is so foreign on my lips.

"It's d-run-nk," He says sounding out the syllables.

"Drunk." I say carefully following his words.

"That's it you've got it!" He says and his eyes smile along with his face.

"What happened to me?" I say as he starts to walk away.

"You were hit by a car, it was going less than twenty miles per hour. That's why you aren't cut up badly." He says puzzling me with every word that sputtered out of his mouth.

"A car?" I inquire. What in the Lord's name is a car? He looks at me as though I have been living under a rock.

"I still don't know what a smart car is sir."

"How can you not? One just hit you less than five minutes ago!" He exclaimed. Then something else caught his attention. He quickly and quietly pulls me up and we walk away from the scene where I was apparently hit by a variation of an automobile, called a car, which cannot move faster than 10 miles per hour. They cannot hurt anyone, well they can but all you get is a sore shin for a few days. How could I have a bloody knee, a ripped dress, one shoe covered in blood, the other torn to shreds and a gash that is bleeding from my right arm?

In the name of our Lord, my arm is bleeding! I go to grasp the tiny prayer cross that I received when I was baptized, but it does not hang against my collarbone as it did before. I check every inch of my body with a quick look. It's not hanging anywhere else. I turn around to look at where he picked me up from, and I see the cross. Sliver glistening in a puddle of blood. I hurry back to get it. The man who saved me stops me. "Let me get that. I wouldn't want you getting hit for the second time and same reason. Your cross fell off as you were crossing the street and you got hit by a car." He heads to the opposite side of the street, which is closer to the park. I didn't realize it earlier, but the park looks extremely different. Instead of the park reaching all the way out to the lakefront there was a bridge with strange means of transportation zooming across it. I could partially see the lake. It looked like the water was low. How could that be though? The past years the water had been high.

"Let me take you back to my house you need to get cleaned up." He says leading me into the park.

"Your daughter is very pretty." I say referencing the little girl I barely saw when he saved me.

"Oh, you saw her, she's not my daughter. I agree though, she is very pretty."  
"If she is not your daughter than what is her relationship to you? Your bone structure is extremely similar to hers."

"She is my niece." Oh, I never thought of that.

"How old is she?" I ask trying to keep the conversation going.

"Anna is ten years old." A pang of emptiness hits me. She is the same age as Theo.

"When is her birthday?" I ask trying to ascertain how close to Theo's age she is.

"Ummm, Anna's birthday is April 22nd, 2002. The same day as her sister's birthday, except Cecilia was born in 1997." Wait, did this man just say his niece was born in 2002, surely he must mean 1890.

"What is today's date?" I ask while trying to hold my balance.

"Today's date is May 1st, 2012. I think you should go to the hospital to see a doctor. You could have a concussion. Better be safe than sorry." He says changing the direction he is walking in.

"I do not need to see a doctor, you are the one who needs to see a doctor. Today's date is June 5th, 1900 sir." I say indignantly.

"Does this city look the year is 1900?" He asks me pointing to all the tall structures blocking my view of the entire city.

"What happened to the city? Just hours ago I could see St. Chrysostom's steeple."

"Nothing happened, you just must've been dreaming about the city's past." He says trying to reassure me.

"I… I… I… I can prove it. I can prove that I was not dreaming." I say not knowing how I actually will prove it.

"If you are from the year 1900 then all the people you knew are dead."

"I know how I will prove it. Take me to my old neighborhood and I'll show you things that only someone who lived there years ago, to you, would know." I grab his hand and pull him forward. We run through the park, how David would yell at me if he saw me running, thankfully, David wasn't here.

"If you're going to pull through the entire park at least tell me your name!" He says to me, while putting his free hand on his fedora. His brown hair was peeking out from underneath the very fashionable hat.

"My name is Eleanor Christine Parkwell, I'm nineteen years old and I live in the Lincoln Park area. Come on!" I pull him faster towards my Aunt Katherine's house. People think Uncle William owned the house, but it was passed down through the women in our family. My mother, since she was the oldest, was supposed to inherit the house after my grandmother Jeanne's death, but after she married my father and moved to Saint Louis, grandmother changed her mind and gave it to Aunt Katherine. It did not change much, since Aunt Katherine was only three minutes younger then my mother.


	5. Chapter 5

Book 5: Gregory

"My name is Eleanor Christine Parkwell, I'm nineteen years old and I live in the Lincoln Park area. Come on!" As she pulls me faster towards to her house. My head pounds, trying to tell me something that is so obvious. What could it be though? She takes me to her house and suddenly everything in my mind clicks.

"Wait, stop." I say to her as she walks through the gate that marks the entrance to my house. She stops and turns around. Her hair hangs slightly past her waist, the momentum of her turning around makes her tattered and torn white dress flow as if it were being blown in the wind. "It's you. The girl from all those pictures. But how?" I say unexpectedly, thankfully she doesn't hear me.

"Why should I stop?" She asks me. "I'm trying to prove to you who I am."

"How do you intend to prove that?" I ask her skeptical of the evidence she will bring me.

"Around this property there are a few things that are brand new. They are hidden and only I know where they are." Suddenly she sprints to the cherry tree and starts digging. I go over to help her, but she just waves me off and I decide to sit on the porch to wait. About thirty minutes later she brings me a purple cloth. Inside the purple cloth is the pocket watch that I had unearthed a few months after I moved in.

"How could you know where that watch was? Only I knew where it was."

"I think I would remember where I hid my beloved father's pocket watch, which he unfortunately never used."  
"So, you travelled 112 years forward in time. That's not so hard to wrap my head around." I say sarcastically while running my right hand through my hair. God.

"I agree it is kind of strange. Yet it is completely true, I would not lie, for I do not wish to go to hell. My mother always told me that if I lied or did anything else sinful that I would join my childhood tormenter Annemarie in the devil's sanctum." Her faith did match the time period; her clothes were stitched like many articles of clothing in that time period. Her hair was un-altered and did not look like it was cut. Plus she hardly spoke in contractions, another hint.

"What are your last memories? Tell me about the entirety of your last day at home." I ask her.

"Well that will take a while." She says sitting down on the porch steps.

"Why don't we go inside, it'll be much more comfortable and I can get you something to eat."

"Oh, you know the owners of the house? They must be Theodore's descendants. Aunt Katherine and Uncle William didn't have any children of their own and after I disappeared they must've given it to Theodore."

Oh God, how do I tell her? How do I tell her, her brother died just a few days after she disappeared? "I am the owner of the house Ms. Parkwell. Unfortunately I am not a descendant of your brother." Her face stays as still as a stone.

"So did Theodore's descendants sell it to you?" She asks me, she really doesn't understand it does she?

"No. They didn't, you see you're brother doesn't have any descendants." Finally her face starts to sink.

"He did not have any children? That is hard to believe. Even at age ten, all the girls loved him." I can't tell her. Yet I have to tell her.

"Ms. Parkwell, your brother died about two weeks after you disappeared. According to the records he was already sick when you left. Some people say it was typhoid fever. Others say it was scarlet. I'm so sorry." When I say he died, she breaks down in tears.

"But— But— But—But— " She can't even finish her sentence that is how upset she is.

"It's ok, I understand, my brother died when I was in Italy for two years abroad. He was only thirteen-years-old. He—he—it's still hard for me to talk about. I loved him and I wasn't there when he died. I remember like it was yesterday."

_I called my mother like I did everyday. I always left out the fact that Vincenzo and I were going out. Or that we had spent the entire day together. I had liked Vincenzo for the entire year and a half that I had been in Rome. I was waiting for the right time to tell my parents. _

_"Dai, facciamo passare la serata insieme." He says standing in my doorway. "Please Gregory, we need to go out tonight. Lucrezia and her family have invited us over for dinner."_

_"Aspetta, I need to call my Madre. Non-parlare, she can't hear you, or else you and I will be morto. I will go out with you tonight, just let me call her." I hear her line ringing._

_"Greg." I hear her cry from the other end of the line. _

_"Mom, what's wrong?" I had never heard my mother cry, except for when she told me my brother was dead._

_"Anthony—Anthony is—Anthony is dead!" She finally wails out. I drop the phone out of my hand and it hits the ground with a bounce, the cord pulls it back up, and it just hangs in the air. My knees buckle beneath me. My hands touch the ground as I shake my head._

_"No—it, it, it can't be."_

_"Il mio amore, what is wrong?" Vincenzo asks as he bends down and rubs my back with his hand._

_"My fratello is dead. He was tredici years old. Too young" I hurriedly pack all my things; kiss Vincenzo goodbye and then rush off to the airport. "I need a ticket to Chicago on the earliest flight." The man behind the counter doesn't understand. "Ho bisogno di un bigiletto per Chicago primo volo." I say accidently spitting in his face. I'm in a rush. "Sono di fretta. Mi dispaice." I say apologetically. _

_"Il prossimo volo che abbiamo lasciato in sette ore signore." The man behind the counter says. Seven hours, I can't wait that long, my mother needs me. _

_"Eventuali voli per New York prima di quanto sette ore?" I ask insinuating that I need to get to the US as quickly as possible._

_"Il volo decolla in circa due ore." Two hours, that's better than seven. I rush through customs, showing them my passport and not declaring everything. I'd declare the rest when I got to LaGuardia Airport. The flight home was shorter than I expected, only about eight and a half hours. I arrive at LaGuardia at around 10 at night. I go to the counter to get a connecting flight to Chicago._

_"Hello, when is the next flight to Chicago?" I ask the nice young woman behind the desk._

_"It leaves in less than an hour. Think you can make it?" She asks me, her Brooklyn accent making it a bit hard to understand what she was telling me._

_"I think I can." I say smugly._

_"Okay Superman." I get my ticket, pay her and head to the gate. I make it just in time to board. I arrive in Chicago at around midnight. Jet lag was finally taking its toll, but I couldn't quit now. I hail the first taxi I see. He takes me all the way to Evanston to see my mother. As we were driving through the sleepy city, inexplicably I start crying. The Sears Tower, the Hancock building, all markers of memories that I had buried a long time ago, memories that were both good and bad._

_"Calm down Gregory, keep your cool, mom needs you to be strong for her. You can grieve when no one is looking." I say to myself as we head down Hull Terrace, the lights in the drawing room were on. I knock at the door. First there is no answer. Finally my father opens the door._

_"Gregory, come on in." He says solemnly. His face looks, tired and bereaved. _

_"Hello Pop. Am I the last to arrive?" I ask while looking around the room, staring each one of my relatives in the face. All their expressions match my fathers. In the corner I hear stifled crying. Mom._

_"No, your sister Karmine, Rachel, and Jake are on their way. They were in Cairo for Jake's sister's Lucia's wedding. They would've been here earlier, but Karmine insisted that they stay for the ceremony and party, they should be here soon." Just as he says that there is a knock on the door._

_"I'll get it Pop." I say while giving the glance to go check on Mom. I open the door to a pair of arms being thrown around my neck. The owner of the arms is crying into my jacket _

_"I know Karmine, I know." I put my arms around her. I feel another pair of arms wrap around my leg. Rachel, I think. I take my free hand and reach down to rub her back._

_"How's Mom." I hear Karmine whisper in my ear._

_"I don't know I just walked in myself." I whisper back to her._

_"Well stop comforting me and comfort Mom!" She angrily whispers._

_"Fine, fine, fine." I say back to her. I let Jake take over comforting her. Rachel is still holding onto my legs though. I pick her up. "Hey, hey, hey. Stop crying Rach." I say while walking over to my mother. I start wiping tears off of Rachel's face. Her tiny arms latch around my neck. She buries her tiny face into my neck. I get a mouthful of brown toddler hair, but who could complain about that in a situation like this. _

_"Uncwel Gweg," Her high pitch voice says shakily._

_"Yea Rach-Rach?" I ask her while rubbing her back; glitter from her dress gets onto my hand._

_"Where is Auntie Emiwia?" She asks me._

_"I don't know Rach-Rach. Let's see Grandma ok? I think she'll really like to see you." I walk over to my Mom._

_"Gwamma!" Rachel says when she sees my mother. My mother looks up; her eyes are wet and sunken. Her body seems lifeless, like she is the corpse. Her black hair is stringy and unruly. Even when she was just going out to the store, my mother always tried to look her best. She was a beauty queen, the unsung princess of Evanston. Seeing her in this condition just re-affirmed my beliefs that Anthony was the favorite child. I know she loved all of us. Still Anthony was her baby. Karmine was the oldest, she was born in 1968, and I followed in 1976. Then there was my sister Emilia born in 1978, finally Anthony was born in 1981. Emilia was the problem child; I was in Italy spending my senior year abroad. Karmine was already married to her high school sweetheart and she had a four-year-old daughter. Anthony was the only child still at home. He was the only child Mom could still take care of it, having heard how he died, it must've hit her like a ton of bricks. It must've made her feel like she failed him. Through what I had heard, I concluded that a car had hit my thirteen-year-old brother._

_"Hello Rachel." Mom says with a lack of feeling._

_"What's wrong with Gwamma, Uncwel Gweg?" Rachel asks whispering into my ear._

_"Grandma is just sad Rach-Rach. Just like you were earlier." I ask while kissing her forehead._

_"Okay Uncwel. Can you put me down on Gwamma's lap?" She asks. I grudgingly oblige, I hope that she won't upset Mom._

"You'll never forget your brother Ms. Parkwell, he'll always stay in your memories." I say reassuring her; I rub my hand on her back just like I had done to Rachel eighteen years ago.

"How did you get over the pain?" She asks me. Her grey eyes stained red with tears look up at me questioningly.

"I have never gotten over the pain. It's always there, always present, but I have learned to cope with the pain. I know Anthony wouldn't approve if I had spent the past eighteen years grieving." I say

"Can we go inside? I would love to be in such a familiar environment while I take in the information you have just given me." She stands up, and turns around to face the front door.

"Of course," I say. I step up the four faded white steps, pull my keys out of my coat pocket and put the top lock key in, turn the key to the left. I pull out the bottom lock key and do the same to that key. Once I hear the familiar click of the door unlocking, I push it open and stand aside for her to enter the house.

"You—" She can't say anymore before she faints. I run forward to catch her. She is light as a feather. With ease I pick her up by her knees and shoulders and carry her up to the bedroom that most likely belonged to her. When I set her down on the bed something strange happens.

_"Aunt Katherine, thank you so much for taking Theodore and I in. I cannot tell you how much we owe you. I know that you and mother were on bad terms before she died." A voice I believe to be Ms. Parkwell's says from out of sight. I look around at my surroundings. I'm in the same room I was in less than a minute ago, but now candles have replaced the light fixtures I put in. On the bed, a small boy is fast asleep._

_"Your mother and I did have our squabbles before she and your father tragically passed, but you are my sister's beloved children, and therefore you are my beloved niece and nephew. I could not let you two to go the orphanage. I will always take care of the both you Eleanor."_

_"Thank you Aunt Katherine." She says. I turn around to see two figures equal in height hugging. _

_"Now, you must tell me about that man you met today at the train station. What did you say his name was?"_

_"Oh, Theodore told you? He said his name was David Marvel. I do not believe him though. All the newspapers place David Marvell in New York. He could not possibly be in Chicago. I can not possibly have a meeting with him tomorrow at the statue of the great president." The skinnier of the two figures says. I can guess that if I could see her face she might be blushing. That name David Marvell rings a rusty bell in my head, but the connections are not being made. _

_"Ellie, where are you?" The little boy on the bed sleepily asks._

_"I am right here Theodore." And with that the memory of the past, or whatever that was fades away from view. _


	6. Chapter 6

Book 6: Elle

_I awoke in a strange, yet oddly familiar place. Voices fill my head and I spin around. "Hello, is anyone there. Aunt Katherine? Uncle William? Theodore?" My hands slowly felt up my body making sure everything was there. I had both my legs, all ten of my fingers and my nose._

_"Elle calm down, you are safe, you are home, no one can hurt you. You are home Elle. Theodore is in his room next door." A man's voice said. My head said that it wasn't possible for him to be speaking. Yet, he was. There was a knock at the door. _

_"Alexander? Has she risen yet?" I hear a woman's voice ask._

_"Yes Madeleine, Eleanor just woke up." He said to her. Slowly the door opened and in came the woman. My eyes started to well. A piece of her curly red hair hung down the side of her face. Theodore used to tug at it when she held him. _

_"Eleanor, why are you crying?" She asks me._

_"Mother, father," is all I say before I start sobbing._

_My mother motions for my father to leave. "Eleanor, are you sure you are alright?"_

_"Yes mother, I'm quite alright. I do not know why I am crying." I say._

_"Maybe it's because you are excited. Knowing that tomorrow you will be married, leaving this old home. Entering a new home, becoming mistress of the house. Starting a family. I know Mr. Smith is very excited." Married? I was getting married? _

"Eleanor? Are you alright?" Dr. Jones' voice asks, breaking the façade of my dream.

"Yes, I am quite alright, I just had the strangest dream, that is all."

"Okay, it's just that when you entered the house you fainted, and you've been out cold for five hours."

"Five hours? My word, did I hit my head?"  
"Yes you did, but you have no concussion, as a neurologist, I should know."

"Thank you Dr. Jones."

"That's alright Eleanor, I'm a doctor, and it's my job to help people. Now I'm going to help you get home. I've been searching the Internet for people who might be able to help. So far I haven't found anything, but this article looks promising."

"The Internet?" I ask inquisitively.

"It's basically like a huge compilation of all the newspapers, books and anything else you can think of in the 'palm' of your hand."

"This day keeps getting stranger and stranger. What can you search?"

"Anything Eleanor, that's what makes it wonderful. I can search you if you want."

"Nothing would come up, I am supposedly 131 years old now. Well dead actually but still."

"You would be surprised what I can find. I'll search Eleanor Christine Parkwell June 5, 1900. Here we go," he says as he uses his finger to press buttons on his metal contraption. "An article in the newspaper;"

Local Girl Missing.

Eleanor Christine Parkwell, aged 19 pictured on the right, has gone missing from her Gold Coast home. Her brother Theodore, aged 10, tells journalist Martin Smith that he saw his sister sneak out of the house late last night, "she looked like she was going to meet someone, although I do not know who, all of my sister's friends are in Saint Louis," Her Aunt and Uncle are anxious to get her home, they have spread the words 'Eleanor Christine Parkwell goes missing, please inform the Chicago City Police Department if you have any idea on her whereabouts."

"Here's another one;"

Six Months, still no word on missing Chicago Girl.

__It has been six months since her brother Theodore last saw his sister Eleanor Christine Parkwell; this case has received some attention. Millionaire son of Howard Marvell seems to be worrying about this missing girl. People close to Mr. Marvell say that he has been distraught over her disappearance, inconsolable one person said. Police are now looking into the fact that the two of them might have been in a relationship.

"I've found a couple of promising articles about time travel, a professor of theoretical physics named Matthew Sampson is apparently the most knowledgeable in his field. He's based out of the University of Chicago. I'll make an appointment." I hear everything Dr. Jones says, but I do not process any of it. My mind is reeling, David was distraught over my disappearance, and I need to get back to him.


	7. Chapter 7

Book 7: Jamil

"Jamil, you can't keep acting like this! As a descendant of Da-" I press the end call button. God, she never shuts up about our heritage, about how we need to embrace where we came from. The phone rings again with the familiar tone. I pick it up hoping that she will move on to a new subject. "Jamil Stephan Ethanson! How dare you hang up on me! Jamil, darling, you are only nineteen, this woman is twenty-one. Have you considered that she loves your money and last name more than she loves you?" At this moment I really regret picking up my phone.

"Mother," I say sternly but sweetly, "I love Jessica and she loves me. She told me that she loved me long before I revealed who I really am."  
"She might've just not said anything to keep up a veil of innocence my dear. I think she is just a low down dirty bi-" I can't take anymore of her incessant nagging. I go to block every incoming call, text and email from my mother. While I am looking at my mother, Jada A. M. Ethanson's contact my thumb brushes over Jessica's contact. My thoughts jump her. Her curly brown hair blowing in her face as we walk down the lakefront. The blue in her eyes matching the color of the deep summer water. Her high pitched airy laughter. Her calm demeanor, there's no way she could be faking her love for me. My mother was completely wrong. The escalator sends me down from the men's department towards the shoes, makeup and fragrance department. My black sneakers make no sound as I walk towards my target. She is standing no more than twenty feet away from me. I want to call her name, but she's on the phone. So I'll let her continue her conversation.

"Don't fret Giovanni, I'm this close to his fortune. After a year or so of loveless marriage, I'll get a divorce. Since he won't think to make me sign a prenup; I will get 50% of his fortune. Then we can finally be together. The little prick won't even see what's coming. Plus, he believes that I don't care about his HUGE fortune. It's been too easy to fool him. He's way too trusting. This'll be the wake-up call he gravely needs. Too bad it'll be too late." I want to stay and hear more incriminating evidence, but I have a gut deep feeling that she will turn around soon, I want to get as far away from her as physically possible before that happens. I start walking towards the up escalator. "Giovanni, I need to go now, he'll be here soon, I love you, don't ever forget that." She says as she ends the phone call. I can hear the floor squeak as she turns on her designer shoe heels. I wish I could see the look on her face now. She just ruined everything. "Jamil? Is that you? I'm right here you know. I-" She keeps on talking, but I stop listening to her incessant babbling. I reach the tie section of the men's department before I finally stop walking.

"Hello Mr. Ethanson, how can I help you today?" He asks me.

"I'm not here to buy a tie today. Not after what just happened. Sorry Preston." I spurt out while sitting down on a gray ottoman.

"It's quite alright Mr. Ethanson. What's troubling you?" Preston asks me.

"I'm just hiding from Jessica, that's all."

"Might I ask why you are hiding from Ms. Evangaline?" He asks sitting down on one of the other ottomans.

"Because she betrayed me. Mother was right. She only wanted me for my money." I say while putting my hands over my face to hide my despair. Preston scootches, quite noisily, over to the ottoman where I am sitting. He rests his hand on the back of my shoulder.

"Don't you worry Mr. Ethanson, you will find a girl who loves you for you. Maybe she'll even take a liking to your atrociously styled hair. Miss Evangaline didn't sit right with me anyways Mr. Ethanson."

"Was I the only one who didn't see through her beautiful and elegant façade?" I ask feeling dumber and dumber with every passing moment.

"You were in love Mr. Ethanson! You got blindsided by a bayside bombshell." He was right; I didn't see Jessica's un-honorable intentions because I didn't want to. I wanted our love to be perfect. Now that I look back on our relationship, it seems so clear to me.

"Oh Preston, Preston Icefeather. Wait; is Icefeather even your real last name? Or have I been deceived by you too?" I ask poking his nametag.

"You have seen through my façade as well. No, it is not sir. My name is not even Preston. My name is Paris! I am a kinsman to the prince. And dear sir, I am slain." Preston proclaims as he falls off of the ottoman he was sitting on. He descent to the ground is very dramatic. He lies there on the gray carpet, his gray sweater vest blending almost perfectly into the carpet. The only signs of life emminating from him are the tell tale rise and fall of his chest. Plus the movement of his eyes behind their lids, and of course behind his glasses. I watch my watch tick twenty seconds before he moves again. It starts in the tips of his toes. His legs skyrocket up and his back arches. He puts his left hand on the ground to balance himself out. For the brief time that he is moving his hair is repeating all his movements. His sandy brown hair finally stops moving about three seconds after he does. "I AM ALIVE!" He screams. I laugh. He knows what to do when I am sad. He's basically been my father figure. He used to sell my father his ties since my father graduated college, Preston was new, and so was my father. After my father's death when I was eight, so eleven years ago. He basically took over for my father. He was my mentor, my stylist and friend all wrapped into one, devastatingly funny tie salesman.

"I wonder if Jessica has given up looking for me?"

"I can talk to George, ask him to look in the monitoring station. Do you want me to do that Mr. Ethanson?" Preston asks me kindly.

"Thanks Preston. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jamil." I say to him as he starts walking towards George, a lanky security guard who I can see sleeping on the benches next to the elevator.

I sit on the ottoman for what seems like forever. Finally I hear the clicking of Preston's shoes on the marble flooring.

"She's still searching for you on the ground floor, but George and I found a way for you to get out using the service exit. All you have to do is follow me!" Preston says while grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the up escalators.

"Ok, but why are we going to the women's clothing section?" I say while almost tripping over my own feet.

"Quickly Mr. Etha- I mean Jamil." As soon as we step off the escalators we slow down. "She's still looking downstairs so we can walk, unless you want to—" Preston kept talking, but I wasn't listening. I am staring at some pretty girl in the distance. Suddenly, my head is hitting the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Book 8: Elle

I open my eyes to find myself lying on the ground. I quickly grab the hand extended out to me; it probably belongs to Dr. Jones. The arm pulls me up and I'm face to face with a young man, no older than myself. Tufts of his blonde hair hang in front of his green eyes, piercing right into the very core of my immortal soul.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

"Are you okay Miss? You seemed to have hit your head hard on the floor."

"I'm fine Sir. Thank you for helping me up." I brush off my clothes that Dr. Jones gave me from my trunk in the attic.

"My name is Jamil, Jamil Ethanson." He says as he grabs my hand and kisses it. _Phew_. I do not have to deal with future customs right now.

"My name is Eleanor Parkwell. It was nice to meet you Mr. Ethanson."

"You can call me Jamil, Miss Parkwell." He says while he smiles sweetly. He reminds me a bit of David. Oh, David. Why do I have to think of David now? I will probably never see him again. I need to have a clean break and never think of him again.

"Eleanor, we have to go." Dr. Jones whispers into my ear.

"Goodbye Jamil." His name feels so strange on my tongue.

"Dr. Jones, it was nice seeing you. Goodbye Miss Parkwell, try not to fall again." Jamil says humorously.

"Goodbye Jamil. Remind your mother that I will see her next Friday."

"I will Dr. Jones." He says while we start walking away.

"He reminded me so much of David. When did you say that meeting with the professor was?"

"In a few hours. I'm going to drop you off at the house, and then I will go to Professor Sampson's office."  
"Why aren't I coming? I am the one who has been vaulted through time!"

"That's exactly the reason, you will get too emotional, and we need to keep this strictly professional. Don't worry next time I see him you can come with me."

"Do you swear on the Lord's name?" I ask him while we are crossing the street.

"If I still believed in God, I would." He says sauntering ahead of me towards the bus stop. I have to quickly walk to keep up with him. He hands me a blue pass. When the correct bus pulls up he stands in line. I am standing timidly behind him. When he steps into the bus, I carefully watch what he is doing, so I do not look dumb when it is my turn. He puts the bus pass into some strange metal contraption that has a slot for the passes, a slot for dollar bills, and a slot for coins. After a brief second the pass pops back up and he takes it and sits down. Now it is my turn. I do everything the way he does. I walk to where he is sitting; he's saved a seat for me.

"Thank you Dr. Jones." I say as I take my seat. We ride the bus for about twenty minutes. Dr. Jones reaches his left arm up and pulls down a string that causes a ding. The bus stops at the next stop, while the bus announces,

"Belden" We get off as the bus stops at the light. Once the bus pulls away from the stop, we cross the street and head down Belden. Even though this house is my own, I have no idea how to get there since all the buildings and landmarks are gone. Replaced by modern houses and modern landmarks. Dr. Jones leads me through twists and turns and finally we end up in front of the house.

"Just head on in and I'll be back in a little while, oh and Eleanor, you can call me Gregory. Since I'm going to be seeing you everyday."

"Okay, Dr. J- I mean Gregory." I walk up the stairs enter the front door. I can see him getting into a vehicle that is parked right in front of the house. Soon he drives away. As soon as he is gone from view I am sprinting up the stairs. I sprint all the way up to his study and flip open his computer, and search Jamil Ethanson just like he had searched and found the Professor. Numerous articles came up. I click through the titles. From all I gather he is the son of Jada A. M. Ethanson a wealthy steel magnet, and Stephan Ethanson, a wall street trader who died tragically with 2,752 other people in a terrorist attack on September 11, 2001. He was born on April 19, 1993, that makes him 19, the same age as I. His mother Jada was born on October 29, 1964, to steel magnet Marilynne Makris and Professor Abraham Makris. His father Stephen was born on November 23, 1960 to Doctor Vincent Ethanson and Elsie Song, how unusual, she did not change her last name after she married. I start to close the computer, but I want to know where his family got their roots in the steel magnet business, maybe the worked with, or most likely against, Howard and David. Jamil's grandmother Marilynne, born on December 6, 1932, was also born to a wealthy steel magnet, but this time the steel magnet was her father, not her mother. Her mother was Gwenyth Somner. I wonder if she's the daughter of my friends Richard and Clarice Somner? Her father was Nikolai Marvell.

"What? How can this be possible, David was the only surviving Marvell?" I continue looking at the computer screen in disbelief. I click on his name. Nikolai Marvell, only son of Mr and Mrs. David Marvell. Born on the ninth of June in the year 1905. He inherited the company his grandfather Howard Marvell built up from the ground after the death of his father David Marvell. His mother Cassandra died when he was 52, just a day before his father David died. Both of them died from natural causes. Some say David died of broken heart after seeing his wife of 54 years die. David Marvell is the great- grandfather of Jada Aliyah Makris Ethanson, the widow of the late Stephan Ethanson. Therefore that makes him the great-great-grandfather of Jamil Ethanson. "No wonder Jamil reminded me of David, he's related to him."

I continue to stare at the computer screen in disbelief for the longest time.


	9. Chapter 9

Book 9: Gregory

I arrive at the campus to meet a rush of students heading to classes. I check my watch 3:15, that means I've got fifteen minutes to find Professor Sampson's office.

"Hi, I was wondering where Professor Sampson's office is?" I ask the nearest friendly looking student.

"Oh sure. Just go into this building, take your first right, then take the second left, and his office will be the fourth door on the left." The student tells me before quickly rushing off.

"Thanks," I say, sure that he actually doesn't hear me. "First right, second left, fourth door on the left." I repeat in my head. It works because a few minutes later I'm standing in front of his door. I check my watch again. 3:20. Maybe I should wait. Suddenly I'm pacing back and forth in the hallway trying to waste my time, I guess this what the families of my patients feel like while I'm operating.

"John, can you see who is pacing outside my door?" A man's voice from inside asks. Seconds later a young man, probably a student opens the door.

"And who might you be?" The young man asks me. His facial muscles drawn suspiciously.

"I'm Doctor Gregory Jones. I have a 3:30 appointment with a Professor by the name of Matthew J. Sampson." I say and the young man's muscles seem to relax a bit.

"Let the good doctor in John." The man's voice says. The young man, presumably John, steps aside and lets me in.

"I'm going to class, thanks for the help Professor." John says as he leaves, closing the door behind him. As I walk into the room, graduation pictures line all of the walls; on two desks there are many gifts. This professor must be well liked. Along the back wall behind the desk there are numerous degrees, including a master's in physics, a bachelor's in science, and even two PhD's. One in Psychology and one in Education. He can do anything he wants, he sounds brilliant, what is he doing teaching college Physics?

"You're ten minutes early Doctor. Do you always have a habit of being early?" A voice says behind me. I can detect a tinge of flirtatiousness. I spin around and have to catch my breath. I am expecting an older gentleman. This man seems younger than me. "Let me guess, you were expecting someone older, especially with all the degrees?"

"Um, basically yes." I take a minute to process because my brain is still in shock because of his age, but this man is drop dead gorgeous. His dirty blonde hair is sticking up in various places, but by no means is it messy. It's perfectly styled. His green eyes seem very serious, but capable having fun. He has a five o'clock shadow that completes the messy, but serious look. I feel knots in my throat; I have to swallow loudly to get them to go away.

"Uncomfortable Doctor? You obviously picked up on my flirting when you walked into the room. Does it bother you that I'm gay?" He says staring straight into my eyes.

"No, I don't have a problem." How do I tell him about Eleanor's problem after this incident, especially when he is this gorgeous?

"Then why'd you swallow loudly? You saw my PhD in Psychology, something is obviously bothering you."

"It's just that you're…" Would it be awkward to put the word perfect at the end that sentence?

"I'm what? A professor? Not flamboyantly gay? Because whenever a student feels uncomfortable I do my best stereotypical gay impression to break the ice, but that's with my students. We're both adults, I would've expected some decorum from you, especially from a doctor." My phone rings. I pick it up feeling saved.

"Doctor Gregory Jones, how can I help you?" I ask before letting the person at the other end speak.

"It's me, Eli. I want to apologize for the way I was acting earlier my—" I cut him off.

"Eli, be a man, you ended the relationship. Don't come running back to me because I'm not taking you back. Don't ever call me again." I say before shutting the phone. Professor Sampson just stares at me in disbelief.

"So that's why. Should've known, now that we got that out of the way. What was so important that you emailed me?" He asks me trying to make the situation less awkward.

"I read all the articles you published on time travel. See yesterday I met this girl who had apparently been hit by a car, but the thing is she didn't have the typical injuries, she just had a stab wound, thankfully shallow, in her abdomen. No bruises, no broken bones, just the stab wound. When I asked the date, to confirm she didn't have a concussion, she said today's was June 5th, 1900. Originally I thought she was joking, but after an hour she showed me things that made me believe her. Then last night I did a search of her name and a result popped up with an article from the newspaper about her. It said Eleanor Christine Parkwell goes missing, please inform the Chicago city police if you have any information on her whereabouts. There was also a picture of her, and I looked at the picture of the girl I—"  
"Wait, you said her name was Eleanor Christine Parkwell, are you sure you have the right woman?" He asks me.

"Positive, why?" He just walks to his computer and beckons me to follow him.

"Eleanor Christine Parkwell went missing on the 5th of June 1900. She was last seen in front of the Lincoln statue. And that night there was a huge storm. According to my theories she disappeared due an excess amount of temporal energy around the statue. She is the reason I got into the theory of time travel. I found the article in my mother's trunk in our attic when I was a boy. My father joked around that she was a hopeless romantic who was meeting her lover in the park that night, and she was transported in time because she was going against her family's wishes."

"Eleanor is the reason you got into the study of time travel?" I ask disbelievingly.

"Yup. What do you say to talking about this over drinks tonight?" He asks looking up into my eyes.

"Sure," I say staring into his eyes.

"I know a great place, it's by the corner of State and Division, say 9:30?"  
"I'll see you then." I say as I walk out of his office and back to my car. This will be the start of something great.


	10. Chapter 10

Book 10: Tarley

"Hey! Watch your flying! You almost hit me!" I scream to the woman flying away. "People these days have no sense of control! I'm walking across North Ave and this woman just comes out of nowhere and almost hits me! Didn't you see it?" I ask the glass screen floating in front of me.

"Yes, Tarley, my love I did see her. You should file a report with the magister. People need to be safer." My fiancé replies from the other end of the screen.

"Oh god, she knocked my case out of my hand. Do you see this? I realise I'm not truly an expected sight on the roads, but I sure as bloody hell won't be run over!"

"My love, you accent is coming out again. I know you were born here and returned before the war, but you need to realize that people don't know that and won't be as reasonable as I. Many women, and men, have lost their loved ones to that war. I don't want to loose you so close to our wedding day."

"Don't worry John, I've got it all under control. I love you and will be at your flat- I mean apartment in a few minutes. Love you, bye." I say while ending the conversation. I grab the floating screen and put it into my coat pocket. Bending down I collect all the scattered items from my case. All my jewelry, pictures and family documents are littered on the grass and the pavement. A picture of my 23rd great-grandmother, Ariadne, is floating in the water, she is strikingly beautiful, the year written on the back is 1880, that was 739 years ago, yet my aunt Lillianna is the spitting image of her. My mother and aunt say that I look just like her, but I believe that I look like my mother, who isn't related to Ariadne. I have her dark chocolate brown hair, lilac/royal purple eyes, and her fair skin. The only trait I share with Ariadne and my aunt Lillianna, are my eyes, even though my mother has purple eyes, so does my aunt and by all accounts I've heard about Ariadne, she had them. I lift the picture out of the water and thankfully it is unharmed. I stand back up, pleased that I found everything, when a glint of light catches my eye. I crouch back down and pick a ring out of the water. Four diamonds are anchored to the band, creating a circle. Extending to the left of each diamond was a string of three more diamonds. Creating a flowerlike design. There are no signs of usage on the ring, whoever the intended lucky lady was never received this ring. Just for fun I slip it onto my ring finger, the one on my right hand of course, it fits perfectly. I find the box for the ring and put the box back into my case. The ring will stay on my finger forever. I lock my case. Get up and start walking into the park. The artificial bees fly around my head causing me to try and swat a few of them. I sit down on the marble steps by the statue of the 15th president of the United States of America, only 35 men followed before the entire government collapsed in 2292, all of them served 2 terms. Lots of scandals, especially with the 50th president, he's the reason why the entire government collapsed. Word got out that he was the descendant of an illegitimate son of Adolf Hitler and the people revolted against the government.

My head starts spinning, I put my hands behind me on the ground to brace myself. Lights are flashing on all sides and they slowly become one continuous light, the scenery changes from the park into a sterile white room. At the center are controls. The temporal engine sits thirty feet above the controls and balances every timeline for every person sitting in this room, although I can't see them.

"Eth, Angel of Time, long _Time _no see." I say to the area around me.

"Tarley Janus, daughter of Toby and Alexandra Janus. The time I spoke of last has finally arrived. Take your luggage and enter your destiny. However cruel it may be, you will prevail at every except what want the most."

"Eth, Eth, Eth, why do you have to be so cryptic all the time? I know you are an Angel, so you are as old as time immemorial, but surely you can learn how to talk to people." I say while spinning around to face the most beautiful woman every born, well I should say created, since she has never actually be born. Her hair falls in plaits down to her knees, golden brown. She shares my eye color. Thin, but not sickly. Her dress seems to be made of pure light. Sprouting from her back are wings made of pure diamond.

"Just go Tarley, but be cautious, the past has no place for someone who will not fit in." She says before making a white light appear before me.

For the very first time in all the times I've visited Eth, someone else appears across the room from me. I only glimpse her for a second before I am launched into my new life. The past has no place for someone who will not fit in, what could she mean? Clutching my case tightly I open my eyes to Chicago, 1950. I've gone back in time, and I've run into a man and ended up on my backside.

"I'm so sorry, one second I looked and the next second you appear. I must be getting a bit drunk." The man says while offering his hand out to me. Gladly I take it.

"It's only been one drink Abe, either you can't hold your liquor or you just ran into an angel." One of his friends says.

"You okay Miss? Did you hit your head?" He asks politely.

"Perfectly alright, thank you." I say using my accent freely for the first time in years.

"Just off the plane from England Miss? I never did get your name." He asks. Tarley Janus won't really fit in; maybe that's what Eth meant.

"Actually no, just off the railway from New York. Jane, Jane Williams, and you are?" I ask with a hint of a smile.

"Abraham, no need to know my last name. Might I show you around the city Ms. Williams?"

"Sure thing, Abraham no last name." I say with a tiny smile.

"Can we be left alone boys?" Abraham asks

"Sure thing Abe." His friend says, while the rest of the boys leave.

"Let's start with the park," he says leading me in the direction of Lincoln Park. The sun is starting to set in the west, creating a beautiful display of lights in the sky.


End file.
